


An Island and Five Years Later

by Mycroffed



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clint is Oliver Queen, Clint went to the island, M/M, and Phil is Laurel, but this is just my crazy mind being crazy, not Oliver
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4691303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mycroffed/pseuds/Mycroffed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint went on a boattrip with his father, but he ended up on an island for five years.</p>
<p>(Or: The one where Clint is Oliver Queen)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I always wondered what it would be like, what Clint would be like if he had ended up on the island after a rather normal childhood. THIS is my brainbaby. I hope you like it.  
> Thank you for reading, kudo'ing and commenting! (They really make my day)

_There was a ship. On the horizon!_

Clint ran, climbed, rushed over a hill, clinging onto his bow. He grabbed an arrow, lit it on fire and shot it with amazing accuracy into a pile of dry wood. It blazed alight and the captain of the ship changed the course, to come and pick him up.

With a slight smile on his face, he rushed towards the beach where he waited until the boat arrived there. A few sailors got out of it and grabbed his arms - he almost flinched but not quite - and helped him towards the ship, stopping him from collapsing on the ground from relief.

He was going home. _He was going_ home. He would finally be going home.

The captain was waiting for him on deck and Clint walked over to him, greeting him. He waited for the man to start talking, before he said anything. He needed to get on this man's good side if he wanted to get back to civilisation.

"Ni haw." The man said. "Do you mind me asking who you are?"

"Clint. My boat capsized five years ago and I've been stuck here ever since." He replied in his best Chinese. He had always been great with languages, even when he had still been at Starling City, a place where maybe - _maybe_ -he might return very, very soon.

"We can bring you to the coast of China." The captain smiled politely.

"Thank you so much." He said, his voice still hoarse from not talking to anyone for the last year. He let the captain guide him to a bed - a _bed_ \- as he could feel the boat put himself into motion. He was going to be home so very soon.

He couldn't stop thinking about that as he laid down - that wasn't a moan that escaped his lips - and slowly drifted off to sleep.

 

*

 

From the island to China, from China back to America and once he was there, back to Starling City. He wished that he was greeted by his mother, by his father, hell, he'd even appreciate it if his brother had been there, but his parents were both dead - his mother had been dead before he had left on the boat and his father had died on the ship - and he had never gotten along with his brother, it would surprise him if that was going to change now.

But that all hadn't stopped him from wishing that at least someone would be there to welcome him home again. Well, there were people present, but the press doesn't really count as a welcome home group. He put on his billionaire smile as he walked off the plane, easily slipping back in a role he hadn't played in over five years. It felt strange to be back - something else that surprised him - as he walked past the group - they were taking pictures of him, walking, smiling, of him coming home again.

He hailed a cab - the driver told him that the drive back home was free, as a welcome home present from Starling City - and drove back to the Barton mansion, kind of expecting it to be in ruins or to be sold so that his brother could buy and sell more drugs - something he had started to do even before Clint's sudden disappearing - but he hadn't expected the house to have grown, to look even better than he had left it. His eyes widened as he got out of the car and walked to the entrance door. He knocked and just hoped that somebody was home.

The door opened and revealed a very good looking man with short, brown hair. "Clint?" He muttered before he pulled the man in front of his in his arms. "Clinton Francis Barton, you can't just return after five years without as much as a note." He grinned widely as he let go - he probably felt Clint tensing up - and patted the man's shoulders.

"Barney." Clint smiled back. "It's good to be back." He tried to relax, tried to remind himself that he was safe now, that he didn't need to be so tense and prepared for danger all the damn time.

"We thought you were dead, Cli. You were gone for five years." He stepped aside and invited him inside. "But I'm so glad that you're back. Is dad...?" He sounded hopeful and Clint knew what he wanted, he knew what he was thinking. A subtle shake of his head told his brother that he was the only one who had survived the island, that their father was dead.

"Good." He said, softly - their father hadn't been their favourite person in the world. "Good."

"Barn, I would keep you company a bit longer, but I haven't slept in ages, not decently at least, so, I hope you don't mind if I disappear into my bedroom?" Clint ran his hand through his hair, still trying desperately to act like he was the guy who liked partying, like he was still the man who went on a boat trip just because he felt like it.

"Yeah, of course, I'm sorry to keep you from your sleep." Barney once more placed his hand on Clint's shoulder and smiled warmly. "Let me guide you to your room. It's still entirely like you left it, I didn't want to clean it up."

"Thank you, Barney." He smiled warmly - it was still his fake smile, but it was a start - and made his way to his room, followed by Barney. Clint smiled as he walked inside his room and looked around, taking deep breaths as he tried to remain calm. He was going to be fine again soon enough. He looked at his bed - it was his own damn bed, the thing he had been dreaming about the first month he had spent on the island - and grinned - this was genuine - before he sat down on it. He ran his hands over the sheets and a chuckle escaped him. "You have no idea how much I missed this. Just a simple bed, with pillows and maybe some soft sheets, something to keep your warm at night."

Barney turned towards him and his eyes widened. "What happened to you while you were gone?" Clint wanted to react sarcastically, he wanted to snarl and tell his brother that the middle of nowhere didn't exactly _have_ beds, but he stopped himself only just in time. He didn't need to ruin this right after he returned to Starling City.

"There might be some people who come and step by to see me, but could you please... keep them out for at least a while, until I'm awake again?" Clint made his voice light and soft as he looked up at his brother, straight into his eyes for the first time since he returned.

"Yeah, of course." The archer's brother said. "I'll just let you sleep then, you deserve it."

After a brief smile to his brother, he laid down and waited for him to leave so he could take a nap. Or at least pretend to take a nap. As soon as Barney disappeared, he got up again and grabbed the one piece of luggage he had brought with him and opened it, looking at the thing inside, the beautiful bow that had helped him survive those five years.

"Hello beautiful." He whispered softly, running his hands over it. "I'm going to take good care of you, now that we're back home - or at least the place that used to be home. It's going to be good again. We're in a good place now."

He closed the box again and hid it under his bed. He'd find a place to hide it soon enough, but first, he'd at least attempt to take a nap. The bed was soft and calling him, so he listened and collapsed on it, closing his eyes.

 

*

 

When he opened his eyes, he blinked a few times, confused and definitely wet - well, his clothes were. _What the hell happened again?_ He wondered as he pushed himself up so he could look around. He was on a beach. How the - oh, right. The boat sunk. His father was dead and he was all alone. He got up and started to limp - he had hurt his foot somehow - towards the line of trees he could see from where he was. He needed to get somewhere safe so he could make a fire, find a place to sleep or at least do something while he waited for someone - or some _thing_ \- to come by the island and take him away from here. He was pretty confident that that shouldn't take too long.

 

*

 

He jerked awake, silently, before the dream could turn dark. He got up and walked to his window. It was dark again - it was probably just a few hours after he had fallen asleep - and he smiled slightly. It was good to be back in his city, he was glad to be back where he belonged. He was pretty sure that the news about his return was spread through the city and the people who actually needed him would probably turn up at his doorstep soon enough.

He took a deep breath and braced himself to get back to the real world, to the world he didn't want to go at the moment. He had to though, he had to pretend to at least look like he was sane - he still was sane, he was pretty sure about that - so he turned towards his door. After a last deep breath - he tried to clear all his thoughts - he walked through the door and down to the kitchen to make himself a pizza. And some coffee. God, he missed the coffee on that bloody island. He hummed contently while the water was boiling and he leaned against the table in the middle of the kitchen. He tensed up when he heard a noise coming from behind him but he managed to turn around slowly rather than spinning around abruptly.

"Calm down, brother dear." Barney's voice drifted towards him from the kitchen door. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just heard you come down and wanted to let you know that Natasha is here for you."

Clint smiled, looking up at his brother - he had always been the smaller one of the two of them - and nodded. Yes, he wanted to see Natasha again and there was no better time than now, when he had some coffee and some pizza to look forward to. He quickly made himself the mug of coffee while Barney briefly disappeared to go and get his best friend.

He was still leaning against the table, sipping his coffee when his red headed friend walked in. "There he is." Natasha grinned widely. "There is the man who's my best friend." She almost ran towards him and pulled him in her arms when she reached him. "Sipping his coffee, like that was the only thing that mattered."

"Do you know how long it has been since I had a good cup of coffee?" He mumbled as he wrapped one arm around his best friend. "How've you been, Nat?"

"I've been... Well, that doesn't matter, Cli, all that matters now is that you're back." She smiled and pulled back again. "So, how about we go out and do something that we've always done?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"We go out. See the city, do whatever you want. " Clint was actually considering the offer. He could go out, look for a good base, maybe he could drop by Phil again. That was, if the man still wanted to see him. They had had a pretty big fight right before Clint had left - he had left because of the fight - and he didn't know how the man had reacted to that. It was as if Natasha could read his mind, because she placed her hand on his shoulder - why did everybody want to do that? - and smiled sadly. "Phil made it pretty clear, right after you left, that the two of you were over, that you were done. Even before your disappearance. I'm sorry, Cli."

He ran his hand through his hair again and shook his head. "Not your fault, Nat. I'm the one who had ruined the relationship and it was only normal that he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"But we could go and see him, if you want to?" She said. She knew how much her best friend had loved him, had loved the lawyer, but there might be nothing that he could do.

Clint shook his head almost immediately. "No. We're not going to see him. I mean, I'll see him when I see him, that's all that matters." He tried to pretend that he didn't still have a photo of the man in his pocket, keeping him close at all time. He didn't want to barge into his house and he definitely didn't want to pull him in a deep kiss, like nothing had happened and they had just been apart for a couple of days after a fight.

Natasha smiled at him - it took Clint a while to figure out that it was a _proud_ smile, which confused him - but he returned it instinctively. "Let's get out of here, Cli, it's going to be great now that you're back."

Clint smiled and followed the red head as she walked out of the Barton mansion and straight to her fancy car that was waiting for her. "Come on, get in there!"

"Yes, yes, calm down, Nat." He laughed softly as he got into the passenger's seat. "Wow, cars are... fancier than when I left."

"The world has kept on turning, Clint. It might come as a surprise, but it doesn't revolve around you."

"Oh, doesn't it?" He tilted his head as he grinned a lopsided smile. "Damn, what a disappointment."

Laughing, Natasha took off, ready to show him the city - or at least the parts of the city she thought he wanted to see.

 

*

 

After way too many stops at night clubs that Clint had to decline, Natasha finally agreed to stop at the empty Barton factory so he could find a place to keep his bow and do what he needed to. He only needed to throw a glance at the outside when he knew that it was perfect for what he had in mind. It was going to be an amazing base for what he was planning.

Natasha looked bored - she had thought that she would be able to convince her best friend to go out and party with her, but it wasn't really a surprise that he refused to enjoy the night life. Clint didn't know what to do about that, so he proposed that he left the car and made his way back on foot.

Natasha didn't need too much convincing to let him go so that she could go partying by herself - she had done that the last five years anyway. He let out relieved breath when he watched Natasha drive away from him. He couldn't help but think that this was the best way, that he needed some distance between him and Nat, no matter how fond he was of her.

So he enjoyed the time alone he had and slowly started making his way back on food. He walked through the shopping district, he walked through the restaurant district and he walked past the place Nat had told him Phil worked now. When he had left, the man he loved had only been accepted to law school a couple of weeks ago and now he was a lawyer. A real one.

There kind of was a reason why he had walked past that building. He told himself that he didn't want to see Phil Coulson, but he couldn't help but hope that he would somehow bump into him and that everything would be alright again - which would bring its own challenges, but that was something he didn't need to worry about.

He was lost in thought when he bumped into someone - he tensed immediately and got into a defensive position, ready to strike against the man who bumped into him - but as soon as he heard the voice of who it was - "Clint?" - he forgot everything and just looked up. Straight into the blue eyes that belonged to Phil.

"Phil." He couldn't help but smile. He hadn't been planning this, but it was a happy, happy coincidence. "Hey, how-"

He couldn't finish his sentence before he got a slap in his face - it didn't hurt too bad, he had felt worse, so much worse, but it was the gesture that hurt. "You ran away from me after our fight. You ran away on a boat and then you died." He said, his voice barely under control. "I don't ever want to see you again."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And things are starting to happen. The parts on the island will eventually get longer as soon as I figure out what exactly is going to happen in this story and how I'm going to write it.  
> Thanks for reading, kudo'ing and commenting!

_I don't ever want to see you again_.

Clint didn't know what he had been expecting from the man, but this - a slap and a clear rejection - was certainly not it. Clint nodded and stepped back from the lawyer. "Yeah, of course, okay." He mumbled, trying to hide how he really felt. He needed to get away from the man, to get some distance between him and Phil because otherwise something not good was going to happen. His protectiveness - even though it had already been there before he left on that boat - had only grown stronger now that he had seen how bad the world really could be.

Phil was already turning around, ready to leave him alone again, but Clint needed to say one last thing. If they weren't going to talk ever again, then there was one last thing that the lawyer needed to know. One last thing that would probably chase the man away from him forever, but he didn't care. Phil needed to know.

"You know I loved you, right?" He said softly as he let his eyes fill with as much kindness and love as he could. "Back before I left with my father? I really did." He looked down and rubbed his forehead before he himself started to turn around himself, prepared to never see the man again. _Goodbye_.

"Wait, Clint..." Phil grabbed the archer's hand and pulled him back to him, so that Clint was facing him again. "I'm sorry. I probably overreacted. But... I'm not ready to go back to where we were, before everything."

The archer nodded. "Yeah, I get it, Phil, really. Maybe... Maybe we could start all over again? I could take you out for dinner sometime this week?"

The lawyer smiled a bit. "Yes." He let go of the archer's hand. "Yes, that's... Let's do that."

"Thank you." Clint reached out for the man's hand again and gently squeezed it. "This really means a lot to me."

Phil got a look in his eyes that Clint hadn't seen often before, so he didn't know how to react to it. "You've changed, Clint. And maybe it is in a good way."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens to you when you spend five years of your life on an island." He joked - well, he tried to, but he didn't know if he came across.

A soft laugh escaped Phil. "Of course, I... I forgot how much you've gone through. I'll... You know what? I really have to go now, but I'll text you when I'm free, alright?"

Clint nodded and now let go of the man's hand. "I'll look forward to that text." He smiled. "Now go do whatever it is you need to do."

Phil closed the last bit of distance between them and brushed his lips against his cheek. "I will. See you later."

Clint couldn't help but smile as the man walked away from him, disappearing around the corner. He scratched the back of his neck as he thought about what had just happened before he started walking again, making his way back home.

 

*

 

He probably needed to make a fire, keep the wild animals away from him, keep the cold away as well, but he had no idea how to make a fire. He had lost his lighter in the sea as he'd been floating around there and he'd never been any good at surviving in the wild, no matter how many times Nat took him out to camp somewhere.

He took out one thing, before the last light of the day would be gone. It was a picture of Phil, one that the lawyer-to-be had pressed into his hands a few days before their last argument. For a moment, he let his mind drift off to the last time he had seen his love, the last time he had been happy.

 

*

 

He didn't sleep well that night, no matter how cheerful he tried to be at the breakfast table with Barney - his brother really had changed and in a really good way. He seemed to be clear off drugs and he didn't seem to sell anything anymore either. The man was talking about a club somewhere in the city and he was offering Clint a job there, but the archer would need to see that through, he needed some time before he could think about another job.

"Cli, you really have to stop drinking coffee like it's mere water." He joked as he looked at Clint pouring his - what was it? ninth? - next cup of coffee. Clint raised his eyebrow and shook his head.

"Brother dear, don't act like you haven't been drinking coffee like crazy while I was gone. I can see all the empty coffee packages you've tried to hide in the corner of the kitchen." He chuckled softly.

"Well, I didn't have you to take out the trash now did I?" He chuckled in reply as he gently nudged the man's shoulder - why was everybody so freaking obsessed with touching his shoulder?

"Oh yeah, like that was my only function around here." He grinned as he sipped what was now his tenth cup of coffee.

"How are you not dead of caffeine poisoning?" Barney shook his head incredulously.

"A lack of caffeine at all is protecting me." Clint shrugged. "Five years without will leave you wanting, you know."

"I bet caffeine isn't the only thing you're craving then, I suppose." Barney had a malicious grin on his face, which Clint tried very much to ignore as he turned around. He got out his brand new phone and started playing with it, seeing that he had a text from Natasha, asking to hang out again.

Clint wasn't too sure if he wanted once again to go out with her and visit all the nightclubs, but then again, he needed to at least try and act like nothing had happened - that didn't make any sense at all, but it was a start and it was the only thing that Clint knew how to do, act like nothing was wrong. He wanted to go back in time and change what had happened. Change his reaction after the fight with Phil, stop himself from going on that boat trip with his father. But he knew that he couldn't and that he just needed to make the best of this situation, so he texted Nat back that he'd be there, later that day, whenever and wherever she wanted him to.

 

*

 

It was the afternoon when Natasha finally texted him with the request to come over. Clint had been itching the entire day to get out and just _do something_ \- preferably some work out or something - what had he become? - so he jumped up and rushed to the door as soon as he heard the bell ring. It felt stupid, but as soon as he saw her he pulled her into a tight hug and smiled.

She looked up at him, surprised, and raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I am really glad that you're back, but we can't have hugs like these. People are going to think we're a couple."

Clint pulled back abruptly. "We can't have that, now can we? Or my image as a gay party man will get damaged."

Natasha laughed. "That image only exists in your head, Clint." She poked his side - a bit rougher than she used to - and hummed appreciative. "Well, whatever happened to you on that island, it certainly gave you some nice muscles."

Clint tensed up at that. Normally, before the island, he would've taken off his shirt and showed off just how great his abs were, but now, with all the scars, he didn't want to. It felt too exposed and when Natasha tried to lift his shirt to get a look, he batted her hands away, maybe a bit rougher than he was used of himself as well.

The look he got threw him off guard - it was a mix of surprise and maybe a little bit of hurt that he didn't trust her anymore. "I'm sorry." He knew he shouldn't have to apologize, but it was almost an automatism. "I would feel more comfortable if you didn't..."

"Yes, of course." She immediately pulled her hands back to herself, scratching the back of her neck rather awkwardly. "I'm sorry too, if that helps."

There was an awkward silence between the two of them - at least it was awkward for him - before he cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "So are we going out or what?"

Given a new topic to talk about, Natasha's smile returned and pulled Clint out of the door - he didn't tense up at all, he was perfectly safe here - towards her car. "We're going to explore the city, show off what has happened to Starling City in those five years you were gone."

"Must not have been an awful lot if you think we'll be able to see it all in one day." Clint tried to keep his voice light, to keep what he was saying light, but he didn't know how good he was at that.

The grin he got from her told him that he was probably pretty successful. "Who said we were going to stop after one day?" She took off in her car and Clint couldn't help but grin at the strength and speed of the car. It was so much more than he was used to.

"So what's this going to be? A week long excursion? A month?" He looked over at her, a nonchalant grin on his face. "Or is this a lifelong thing that I won't be able to get rid of, not ever?"

"Well, first of all, you'll never get rid of me." She grinned at him - "Eyes on the road!" - "But we'll be doing this for as long as you want. Just let me know when you've enough."

"I never said that I wanted to get rid of you, Natasha." He crossed his arms, not quite sulking, but then again, not entirely content either. "And I want to do this for a good long while."

"Good, I'm glad." She parked the car and got out - Clint followed her example - but she didn't make it to the end of the street before the two of them were knocked around the head.

 _Damn. See, this is what you get for not being alert, Clint_. He thought right before he lost consciousness.

 

*

 

It was the shivering that brought him back to the present. He blinked a few times and realized that he was still dressed in his wet clothes and that the darkness had fallen around him. He really needed to make that fire if he didn't want to get eaten by anything. He vaguely remembered that he had once seen a documentary on Discovery Channel on how people in the ancient times used to make fire. They used stones, didn't they? Yeah, definitely.

He pushed himself back on his feet, trying to stop from shivering - he remembered from another documentary on that same channel that shivering only made it worse, that feeling of being cold - and then started looking for some good stones. In fact, he grabbed two random stones and then some wood. He put them together in a pile and then started to clang the stones together, smiling as he spotted the sparks flying down from them.

But before the wood could actually catch fire, a hand caught his shoulder and stopped him.

 

*

 

Clint regained consciousness sooner than the bandits had seemed to think, because when he stirred, a voice broke through the silence. "Ah, Mr. Barton, how good of you to join us again." Clint pretended not to hear it, instead he glanced around, checking all the exits and then his eyes spotted the unconscious form of his friend next to him.

After he had blinked a few times, he pushed himself up suddenly, jumping on his feet without any warning, grabbing a stick from the ground - or was it a stone, he didn't realize in the rush of the fight - before he attacked the men around him. He jumped around them, like a mountain goat from rock to rock as he hit the men one by one, until soon enough, all of them were laying unconscious on the floor, just like he had been mere minutes ago.

He struggled for a moment to get his breath under control before he checked on Natasha, making sure that she was alright. Seemed like she had been not really awake but not really asleep either. If he spun a good tale about how they had been saved by a hooded man, she'd probably believe him and even if she didn't remember it, she'd probably blame it on the hit on her head.

Clint helped her up, faking that he was a bit unsteady on his feet himself, like he had gotten on his feet only seconds before. "Nat, you okay?"

She blinked to regain her focus as she leaned heavily on him. "What happened?" She asked, her voice small and maybe a little scared. "Why are we here?"

Clint tried to explain what he had figured out as he walked with her to the door of the abandoned factory - the same one he was planning to use for himself.

"We should call the police..." She stammered as she was still struggling to get full control over her feet again.

"I will, once we're back at the Barton Manor. When we're back _home_." He said softly, as if he doubted it was the word he wanted to use for the place. "My brother will want to know what happened." He lifted her up, carefully, and guided her to her car, getting her into the passenger's seat.

"Who'll drive?" She asked, frowning slightly.

"I will, Nat, don't worry. And I won't get us in any accidents, not like that one time when we were trying to get home at six after that night of partying." He smiled slightly at the memory.

It seemed like she remembered as well, because she placed her hand on his and squeezed it gently. "Yeah I remember. We spent an entire week in the hospital, the two of us."

While she was reminiscing on that, he started the car and drove straight to the Manor. Once he parked there, once he got out of the car, his brother came rushing towards him.

"Clint, where the hell have you been? I was so worried! You were supposed to be back ages ago." He said - well, he yelled more like it - before he pulled his brother in his arms. "And what's the state you're in? Is that blood?"

"Barnes, I'm fine, nothing happened." Clint protested when he was turned around so the other man could check the wound on the back of his head. "Seriously though."

Natasha was the one who protested. "We were attacked by a gang who had it out for Clint. If it wasn't for that hooded man, we'd still be stuck there. We were lucky that they hadn't cuffed us yet." Her words made Barney only fuzz more about his brother as he pushed Clint inside and down on the sofa. There was no use in protesting, Clint realized that, so he just went along, after all, his brother was older anyway, he probably knew best, even after those years away from him.

Soon the police was called and the two of them explained once again what exactly had happened - of course it had to be Phil's father who was leading detective, the man who had a grudge against him ever since he had had that one huge fight with Phil. But after a good hour of repeating the same story over and over again, the man finally believed the two of them and took off again.

Clint took a deep, relieved breath before turning towards Nat and his brother. "I'll bring you home, Nat." Clint said as he walked towards her to offer a hand and help her up.

"You're not driving a car in this state." Barney protested as he pushed the archer's hand away. "She can stay here, we have plenty of rooms where she can stay. It's not like she hadn't stayed here before now, has she?"

Clint hesitated but he nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Of course I'm right, brother dear." He said. "Now off to bed with you, you need your sleep if you want to recover from that blow on your head."

With a mocking salute, Clint disappeared to his room, letting another relieved sigh escape him.


End file.
